Happy Birthday To Me?

So this morning, I did not, unfortunately, get woken up with a breakfast tray served in bed, with waffles and a mimosa and scrambled eggs and a long-stem red rose in a clear glass vase.

I got woken up by my wonderful husband going, “Honey, I hate to wake you up like this, but the basement’s flooding and there’s mud all over the floor.” (Could have been worse. It was just muddy groundwater, not, you know, sewage-y stuff.)

At one point, as we were sopping up muddy water with bath towels and wringing them out in the mop bucket, Husband sent me out to rent a pump. But by the time I got to the rental place, he called me and said, “The water’s stopped coming in — we don’t need the pump, you can come home.”

So I headed back home — but I did think to myself, “Boy, if this was some elaborate plan they concocted to get me out of the house to set up an early-morning surprise birthday party, I’m not impressed…”


One thought on “Happy Birthday To Me?

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